


Good Morning!

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic!Daryl, Sex Toys, cop!Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: Rick’s cruiser needed some touching-up, and even if Daryl had wanted to go hunting, he couldn’t complain after he made the decision to stay and do his job. He was a mechanic, after all, right?





	Good Morning!

**Author's Note:**

> This is fluff, all the fluff, and only fluff... with sex. Big thanks to MermaidSheenaz who betaed it! <3 
> 
> I just think there's not enough mechanic!Daryl in this fandom... right? RIGHT? 
> 
> (Just kidding, I was putting together a cat tree and this idea came to me while I've been lying on the floor. Figures.)

Daryl was lying on his garage floor, _under Rick’s cruiser,_ humming quietly to a song he vaguely recognized. The radio was on, but he had left it on low, not wanting to wake Rick up - the man needed his sleep after chasing criminals all over King’s County. And besides, it was Saturday, and the only person in a twelve-mile radius who was up at _fuck o’clock_ was Daryl. Rick had never understood Daryl’s waking schedule, especially now that they were living together, Daryl had a stable job as a mechanic in the nearby garage, and he didn’t have to wake up at crack of dawn to hunt down his dinner. Hell, with Dale as his employer, Daryl could probably show up to work two hours late, and all he would have gotten in return would have been an exasperated but fond eye-roll.

Dale had been his mother’s friend, back in the day, and he had helped Daryl a lot when he had come back to his hometown, a long time after his whole family had kicked the bucket. It was Dale who had proposed that Daryl work with him, instead of taking odd jobs and repairing cars on Rick’s driveway. Well… it had been Rick’s driveway back then, now they had bought a different house, a little closer to the forest, a little further away from the town. Daryl still loved to go hunting from time to time, and Rick didn’t mind the distance… he had a cruiser he worked in, after all. Even Michonne - Rick’s new partner - didn’t mind spending an evening at their place from time to time. Daryl liked her, too - she was a definitive upgrade on Rick’s ex-friend and his personal homewrecker, Shane.

Shaking his head, chasing the thoughts of the slimy bastard out of his mind, Daryl went back to putting the screws in. He had forgotten that he had taken his own creeper to Dale’s garage, so now when he wanted to do something on Rick’s cruiser, he had to crawl underneath it. He had already lifted it with a jack and put it on blocks, before he realized his mistake. Shrugging, not one to be discouraged easily, Daryl had spread a blanket out on the concrete and lied down, shuffling awkwardly until he had had the problematic spot within easy reach.

He was almost done with it, too, when he heard slow steps to his left.  
“The hell ya doin’ up so early?” Daryl asked, knowing that Rick would hear the humor in his voice. Rick was a late sleeper, he hated to be up and about at _ungodly hours,_ as he put it. Daryl had to usually wake him up with breakfast...  
“The bed was cold,” came the muttered reply, and Daryl smirked.  
“‘S the middle of summer. Ya gotta try harder,” he gruffed out, putting another screw in. It put up a bit of resistance, and Daryl mouthed a curse.  
“What are you doing?” Rick asked curiously, sounding a bit more awake now, though Daryl knew it was only temporary. It was - Daryl glanced at his watch - eight o’clock in the morning, and Rick rarely left the bed before ten on Saturdays. He would probably shuffle back there again in ten minutes flat.

“Yer cruiser’s been actin’ up, right?” Daryl asked, grunting when the screw proved to be quite stubborn.  
“Yeah… and I told you I would come to Dale’s shop on Monday,” Rick answered, a frown evident in his voice. He stepped closer, Daryl could hear the soft pad-pad of his slippers easily.  
“Ya still can,” Daryl said. “Need to change the oil in this one, and we have none left.”  
“You said you wanted to go hunting today.” Rick stated, and Daryl sighed.  
“Yeah… and ya said ya were worried ‘bout that old shit,” Daryl wanted to point at the cruiser he was currently lying under, but his hands were in front of his face. Not thinking much about it, he raised one of his legs and jerked it up, as if pointing the car with his knee. He knew Rick would get the message.  
“You said it was nothing,” Rick reminded.  
“‘S because it was nothing.”

There was a bit of silence, then more steps followed, until Daryl could feel Rick standing right next to his legs.  
“You gave up a hunt you’d wanted to go on for weeks, just because I was worried about some irrelevant shit creaking underneath my piece of junk cruiser?” Rick asked, with a strange quality to his voice. Daryl frowned.  
“Uh… yeah?” He answered, more like it was a question. There was some shuffling right next to the car, and Daryl briefly wondered, whether Rick wanted to take a look himself. He had done that a few times, handing Daryl tools or just letting his curiosity take the best of him.

That wasn’t what happened, however, and in the next moment, Daryl had to bite his lip hard not to let a very surprised squeak out.  
“Rick?”

There was a hand on his abdomen, slowly inching down over his sweatpants, until it came to rest directly on his crotch. It was warm even through the thick material, and when Rick’s fingers wrapped around the outline of his cock and _squeezed,_ Daryl’s grip on the wrench tightened. There was no way he wouldn’t get hard, not with Rick’s palm fit snugly around him, rubbing up and down, coaxing a pretty embarrassing moan out of his throat.  
“Fuck!” Daryl breathed out, staring at the underside of the cruiser. Rick’s hand moved over him for a minute or so, just long enough to get him hard, then it went away. Daryl groaned out his displeasure, ready to throw a string of very creative curses at his lover, before two hands appeared on his hips.

Feeling the thumbs hooked beneath the waistband, feeling the decided pull, Daryl lifted his ass off the floor, his body running on autopilot. Rick tugged the sweats only low enough to free his cock and wrap his hand around it, and Daryl had to breathe slowly and count to ten to calm himself down a bit. There was something dirty in Rick jerking him off when he was lying partially underneath that damned car, and even if Daryl didn’t know exactly what made it so hot, he was definitely happy to go along with it.

“Do you have a wrench in your hand, sweetheart?” Rick asked sweetly. Daryl cursed quietly, hearing Rick’s voice, innocent and completely at odds with what his hand was doing on Daryl’s cock.  
“Yeah,” Daryl gruffed out, glancing at the wrench he was holding with a white-knuckled grip.  
“Put it down, darling,” Rick murmured, and _fuck,_ he was at it with the pet names again. Daryl almost rolled his eyes, hearing that. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being called a _sweetheart_ or a _darling,_ it was just that Rick’s voice made them sound downright filthy. Especially in situations like that one.

Shivering, feeling the way Rick’s hand moved over his length slowly, almost lazily, Daryl put the wrench aside with a clatter he knew Rick would hear. His lover had to have a reason to tell him to put it… Holy fucking _Christ!_

Daryl almost banged his head on the chassis, his spine bowed up so hard. Before he managed to gather his wits around him, or formulate anything else than the loud moan that was bubbling up in his chest, Rick had the head of his cock between his lips, and was sucking the rest of it inside his mouth. _Slowly._ Slow enough to make Daryl dizzy.

He groaned loudly and fisted his hands into the blanket underneath him, wishing he could tangle his fingers in Rick’s curls instead. He could feel them, brushing against his abdomen when Rick bowed down low, taking an impressive length of his cock in.  
“Fuck… Fuck!” Daryl cursed, closing his eyes and biting his lip. The urge to thrust up was overwhelming, but he really didn’t want the cruiser coming down on him -  a trip to the hospital would have been pretty embarrassing at this point. Flattening himself down, moaning way too loud, Daryl let Rick have his fun.

And fun he had, bobbing his head a few times, popping off just to swirl his tongue around the head and suck right underneath it. Daryl could feel pleasure washing over him, a tingling sensation that spread from his curled-up toes to the top of his head. He let out a stuttering curse, one to which Rick hummed in answer, wiping Daryl’s brain clean. The vibrations traveled from his cock up, heated his chest and coiled in the pit of his stomach. The warmth expanded, stabbing pleasure through him, and Daryl knew this wasn’t going to take long at all.

He had been so surprised by Rick’s mouth on him that he had been halfway there before Rick had even managed to fit his entire length inside. By the time he felt his cock hit the back of Rick’s throat, Daryl was a moaning mess, hips shifting desperately in half-aborted thrusts, seeking more even if he was buried to the hilt between Rick’s lips. And when Rick brought one hand to Daryls balls and massaged them delicately, rolling them around and tugging softly, Daryl was ready to spill within seconds, and _fuck,_ if that didn’t make his vision a bit blurry…

“Gonna come,” Daryl rasped out in warning, trying to be considerate when it came to his downright crazy lover, but Rick just murmured “go on then,” and dove down again. Daryl’s cock was immediately wrapped in tight heat when Rick gave him a long, luxurious suck, before he fit as much of Daryl as he could inside and _swallowed._

Daryl came with a shout, back arching and hands shooting to the side in a blind attempt at grabbing something for purchase. He hit his left hand on a hammer he had left there earlier, but Daryl barely noticed that - his newly-acquired bruise was nothing compared to the mind-blowing pleasure that washed over him as Rick sucked him dry. And he never stopped _humming,_ driving Daryl wild with the sensation, making his legs twitch and his vision swim.

“Jesus fuck!” Daryl groaned out once he was done shaking apart, feeling Rick finally let his spent length slip from his mouth. His lover didn’t pull away, though, not like Daryl expected him to. Instead, Rick bowed his head again and cleaned every bit of Daryl’s cock with his tongue - slow, meticulous strokes that jolted Daryl’s whole body and lit up his nerve endings.

Daryl drew in a long, shuddering breath, but before he could say anything, Rick was moving away. He grabbed the waistband of Daryl’s sweats and pulled it up, covering him again.  
“Wake me up for breakfast,” Rick rasped out, then kissed Daryl’s knee and walked out.

It took Daryl almost ten minutes to remember which way did the screws turn.

 

-&-

 

When the mechanic finally went after Rick, it was almost half an hour later. He had been itching to get to his lover, _of course he had been,_ but Rick had said _breakfast,_ and Daryl had yet to disappoint him. And so, after half an hour spent in their kitchen, putting together scrambled eggs and bacon, arranging everything on a tray, Daryl was finally outside their bedroom door.

He didn’t bother to knock, opting instead to open the door quietly, balancing the tray on one hand and hoping the eggs wouldn’t end up on the floor. The sight that greeted him made it awfully hard.

Rick was on the bed, _clearly not sleeping,_ completely naked and moaning softly. He was lying half on his front, his back to Daryl, and had two lube-shiny fingers slipping inside his ass from behind. If Daryl hadn’t just had a mind-blowing orgasm half an hour before, he would be getting hard right now. As it was, he wasn’t twenty anymore, and even if his cock gave a valiant twitch, he knew that nothing would come out of it.

Closing the door behind him, setting the tray on the floor, Daryl walked to the bed.

 

-&-

 

Rick’s whole body had been burning after that impromptu blow job he had given Daryl, and so, upon entering the bedroom, Rick had tugged down all his clothes and settled on top of the covers. Wrapping his palm around his length had been easy, slicking his fingers with lube - even easier. Reaching that spot inside that always managed to switch off his brain? _Not a chance._

“Ya have any idea how ya look right now?” A gruffy voice asked and Rick jumped, whipping his head around. Daryl was behind him, _crawling on the bed,_ settling with his chest to Rick's back. Automatically, Rick’s hips shifted back, his body seeking the friction of Daryl’s cock, instinctively trying to coax him into a heated fuck.

_Which would not happen._

“Forget ‘bout it,” Daryl huffed out on a laugh, grabbing Rick’s hand and drawing it away. It caused the fingers to slip out, and Rick gave a disapproving groan, biting his lip as if he had any chance at stopping it. Daryl chuckled. “Need help?” He asked, voice gravelly.

Before Rick was even done nodding his approval, Daryl shoved two of his own fingers inside his ass, making Rick moan sharply.  
“Jesus…” Daryl rasped out, feeling just how tight Rick was around him. After years spent with each other, with more fucking than any of them would care to admit… Rick’s ass was still so fucking _tight,_ that Daryl suddenly regretted his morning release. As if hearing his thoughts - probably just knowing him well enough to guess - Rick hissed.  
“Been practicing.”

That startled a laugh out of Daryl, and he leaned closer, craning his neck just so he could whisper right into Rick’s ear.  
“Practicing? What with? That _bone_ in yer drawer?” He teased, wriggling his fingers inside his lover. Rick bit his lip against another wild sound that was ready to spill out, and Daryl used the moment to pull his fingers out, before he slipped them back in.  
_“Fuck…”_ Rick breathed out, closing his eyes and tossing his head back, narrowly missing headbutting Daryl in the chin.

“Come on, get it,” Daryl prompted. Even though his cock liked what they were doing very much, there was no way he was going to get it up again, not in the next hour or so. Judging by Rick’s shifting hips and his glassy eyes, they didn’t really have _that_ long.

Breathing heavily, biting his lip for a moment longer, Rick finally reached over and pulled open the drawer in his bedside table. He took out a dildo - their best drunk purchase in Daryl’s opinion - and brought it to Daryl, who just grabbed it and held it in front of Rick.  
“Lube?” The mechanic asked, diving down to kiss Rick’s ear just because he could. With a shaky groan - and even shakier fingers - Rick spilled some slick into his hand, then ran it over the length of the green silicone. Daryl had to admit that this sight was enough for him to jerk off to for the next month or so.

_If Rick didn’t kill him in the meantime with his surprise morning blow jobs, that was._

Deeming the toy wet enough, Rick let go of it, just to throw his arm behind and grab Daryl’s hip. His lube-slick fingers fisted in the material of Daryl’s sweats, probably staining it something awful, but Daryl couldn’t really bring himself to care. Not when Rick made a small keening noise in the back of his throat as he slipped the didlo all the way up into his ass.  
“God!” Rick groaned, and Daryl smirked, pulling it out and pushing it in again, watching in satisfaction how Rick’s eyes fluttered shut. A few more slow thrusts and Rick’s spine was arching, one of his legs coming to rest atop of Daryl’s, opening himself up. His hips canted up, then pressed down again, fucking himself on the toy, carrying on every movement Daryl started.

Daryl picked up his pace after that, reveling in the way Rick sounded when the toy slid right over his prostate, his mouth hanging open and letting out all sorts of dirty little noises. Cursing his age-addled refractory period, Daryl dedicated himself to making Rick squirm, starting with nibbling and sucking on the shell of his ear, then moving lower to bite on the sensitive skin on his neck. Rick accepted every touch with loud moans of approval, rocking his hips to the rhythm Daryl somehow managed to establish.

When Rick finally brought one hand to his cock and started to stroke it furiously, Daryl went back to whispering into his ear. Personally, he thought he sounded idiotic while attempting dirty talk - Rick was so much better at it when he was in the mood. But, for some strange reason, just hearing Daryl’s gruffy, cigarette-filled voice was enough to fry Rick’s brain in seconds.

“How close are ya?” Daryl asked, trying to rake his brain for something more to say. He didn’t have to. The moment Rick heard the words, he was tensing all over, whining like a cheap whore, and spilling his load all over his stomach. Daryl continued to move the toy, fucking Rick with it until he collapsed bonelessly against him, each gasp laced with a small moan.

“Fuck,” Rick whispered when his breathing started to even out again. He licked his lips, then groaned when Daryl pulled out the dildo. Daryl let it drop to the sheets carelessly - Saturday was a laundry day, anyway, they would wash them later.

Feeling suddenly tired, Daryl hummed, then wrapped his arm around Rick’s waist, running his fingers through the slowly cooling come. He could almost _feel_ the way Rick scrunched up his ridiculously beautiful nose. Daryl sighed.  
“Shower or breakfast?” He asked.  
“You actually made me breakfast?” Rick piped up, twisting around until he could look at Daryl.  
“Ya wanted one, right?”

The smile that spread on his lips was almost as blinding as the sun shining outside. Rick grinned at him, then turned around fully. Before Daryl could react, his lover pounced on him, smashing their mouths together and giving him a toe-curling kiss.  
“Morning,” Rick breathed out when they parted a few moments later.  
“Mhmmmm…” Daryl just hummed, threading one hand through Rick’s curls. Frowning, Rick glanced down, to where their chests were pressed together, before his eyes met Daryl’s again.  
“I’m making you all sticky.”  
“I don’t mind.” Daryl shrugged, then tugged Rick down for another kiss.

By the time they got out of shower, the scrambled eggs were cold enough that they had to be microwaved. Going by Rick’s happy smile, he didn’t mind one bit.


End file.
